Locked Doors
by Ninjacat
Summary: When Sasuke is a child, Itachi may as well be a god.


Sasuke had never seen anything quite like this before.

He wasn't entirely sure what had led him to Itachi's doorway in the first place, for he hadn't even known his brother was home yet...a mission, he'd known that much. Itachi had been gone for just around a day, and he'd been pointedly _not thinking _about it, trying not to be _scared_ for his older brother, especially when Itachi was the strongest ninja Sasuke had ever met.

He was sure of this. He was sure that even Father might lose to Itachi if they fought, but thankfully, that kind of thing didn't happen. It wasn't something to worry about.

Sasuke was a familiar visitor to this hallway. This door. He never knocked; he never had to. Itachi could hear him from halls away, and if he didn't want his brother in his room, he'd lock the door. If the door was open or unlocked, Sasuke knew he could come in.

It had been locked often lately.

He tried not to let it bother him.

His mother's comfort on the subject was strained and not very comforting at all. "_He's growing up, Sasuke-chan. Let him have his space."_

So Sasuke gave Itachi his space, avoided this hallway as much as he could when Itachi was home and haunted it when he wasn't. Let his fingers close around the doorknob even though he never turned it; he was afraid to know if Itachi locked him out when he wasn't home or not.

The door wasn't locked today.

For a moment, he wasn't sure if he wanted it to mean Itachi was home or that he wasn't.

Sasuke stumbled in, eyes searching the room wildly for his brother and not at all expecting the sight he found.

Itachi was home, but that wasn't all.

There was blood.

Blood on the floor, blood on the ANBU mask and ANBU vest that had been casually discarded onto his bed as if it were water or dirt. Blood on Itachi's gloved fingers and drenching his sleeve from his elbow all the way to his wrist. Blood flecking his pale, surprised face and littering his shirt.

Sasuke should have been frightened.

He should have screamed or cried. He'd never seen anything like it before.

And yet.

His eyes widened, realizing that the blood on Itachi's arm was his and not anyone else's, and that under tattered cloth there was a wound. His brother had been hurt.

Itachi stared at him blankly, as if confused. "Sasuke..."

"Let me, let me help you," Sasuke babbled, cutting Itachi off, jumping closer to his brother and eyeing the blood-soaked cloth around the wound. Itachi opened his mouth to argue and send him off, but Sasuke seemed so intent that he fell silent before he said a word.

Sasuke's black eyes were open _so_ wide. "Can't I help you? I can bandage it for you. I know how. Mother taught me. I can clean it for you." He insisted.

Itachi looked, for a long moment, as if he'd much rather send Sasuke out of his room. Sasuke's tiny fingers were fluttering around his arm, eyes open so wide and filled with the incomprehensible desire to be useful to him, that he couldn't help it.

"...All right, Sasuke. If you think you can take care of it, you may as well." Itachi smiled. Sasuke smiled up at him brightly, and before he said another word, his brother was gone. He could still hear him – but then again, Itachi could hear almost everyone in the house at almost any time – as he dashed towards the bathroom, returning with bottles and armfuls of clean gauze, looking as though he might trip over his own feet in his rush.

Itachi laughed. "Careful, brat," he teased. "You'll fall and hurt yourself and I'll have to take care of _you_."

Sasuke blushed, glowering at him as he forced his older brother to kneel on the wooden floor. Surprised, Itachi complied and watched as Sasuke joined him, setting up his various findings on the floor in between them.

Itachi watched him, dark eyes impassive, his face gentle and curious.

When Sasuke reached for his bloodstained arm, however, he swallowed hard and spoke. "Careful, Sasuke...not all of this blood is ours."

The boy nodded, his small hands steady as he pulled away the ripped sleeve of Itachi's uniform and thoughtfully eyed the wound. Itachi knew, with the blood, it looked much worse than it really was. Especially to a child's eyes. In truth, it couldn't have been much more than a bad paper cut. But Sasuke wanted to help. Sasuke wanted to bandage it, treat it as if it were serious, and Itachi was strangely compelled to indulge him.

"You have to clean it before you can bandage it, Sasuke," he reminded the boy softly, and Sasuke gave him a tiny frown that loudly said _I know_, without him having to say anything at all. There was water and something else in a small decanter that caused Sasuke to scrunch his nose and squint, which only made Itachi laugh and he didn't even flinch when his brother applied the liquid to his injury.

Sasuke seemed impressed; a sweet, childlike awe over something so small.

Silence between them as Sasuke cleaned the wound, and as he finished, he gathered the strips of clean cloth in his hands and held the rest in his teeth, not wanting it to trail onto the ground. Itachi could have pointed out to him that his mouth was probably less sanitary than the floor, but he smiled and said nothing.

"What happened, nii-san?" Sasuke asked after a while, his voice muffled around the gauze in his teeth. His tiny hands fumbled with the strips that he was clumsily wrapping around the (now clean) gash on Itachi's offered arm. He didn't stop, but his eyes flickered up at his brother's quickly before returning to his task.

Itachi paused for a long time, deliberating over what to tell him. What was ANBU business and what could be shared with his endlessly curious baby brother.

"I got careless," Itachi responded indifferently. "He was fast. But it's all right." He smiled; a cold quirk of his lips. "He's dead now."

Sasuke didn't even blink. He wondered if Itachi was trying to shock him or scare him, but it didn't work. The thought of Itachi killing someone didn't particularly feel...wrong. Or bad. His indifference to the blood freckling his brother's entire body was evidence of this.

The thought of his parents killing someone no matter what the circumstances were – and he knew that they had – was obscene. Almost horrifying.

This was Itachi, however.

Itachi slept. Itachi ate. Itachi breathed. Itachi killed.

It was all the same, really.

It took a long time; much longer than it would have taken his mother or a medical ninja, but Itachi didn't complain. His arm didn't hurt much, he managed to hold it up for as long as it took his brother to bandage the rather insignificant cut and even managed to smile at Sasuke as if he had cured a terrible disease.

He stood from kneeling on the wooden floor, pulling Sasuke up with him and brushing stray thread from the gauze off of Sasuke's shirt. The boy was silent, watching him and seeming ready to wait an eternity just to hear him speak. To see him smile.

Itachi stood straight again, lifting his hand and placing it on Sasuke's head. He felt like he should say something, and no words came to mind.

Sasuke blinked up at him patiently. His eyes darted to his Itachi's arm as he waited, curious as to whether or not he'd been any help.

He always seemed to be waiting for Itachi.

His brother's hand was motionless and heavy, almost awkward, as it rested on his head. It seemed like Itachi wasn't even looking at him, but something far off and unreachable. Sasuke's eyes suddenly found a particular spot of dried blood on the older boy's chin particularly fascinating, and he swallowed hard.

He felt lost.

"Nii-san?"

His brother blinked down at him, as if for a moment he had forgotten where he was, and then he smiled. "You did a good job, Sasuke. Thank you for your help."

Sasuke grinned up at him brightly. "I'd do anything for you, nii-san."

"That's a nice promise," Itachi quirked an eyebrow, dropping to his knees and meeting Sasuke's black eyes; a mirror of his own when he was that age. "You'll keep it, won't you?"

"Of course I–"

Footsteps down the hall. Sudden and startling; even Itachi glanced up with wide eyes.

"Sasuke-chan?"

The boy cringed. Their mother was at the doorway more quickly than he'd ever seen her move, and a fierce blush crept over his pale face. He didn't know why. He felt oddly uncomfortable, as though she'd walked in on something embarrassing. Her expression told him she seemed to feel the same way. He didn't understand.

Itachi rose from his knees. His hand fell away from Sasuke's head in an awkward motion. "Hello, Mother," he said, "I'm back from my mission."

There was a pause. Sasuke could almost hear the throbbing of his blood through his veins as he waited for their mother to speak. He could almost count each pulse.

She smiled. "I'm glad," was her whisper, "I'm glad to see you home. Are you...are you hurt?"

Her dark eyes slid over the blood freckling Itachi's uniform and the sloppy bandages on his right arm. Her smile dimmed as his brightened.

"No," he replied, "I'm much better now. Sasuke took care of me."

He gave the boy a playful pat on the head, chuckling softly. Sasuke smiled up at his brother, blushing again but more happily this time. Their mother smiled reluctantly, looking vaguely uncertain but she seemed to like the sight of Itachi smiling.

Or maybe she didn't.

"You should probably get some rest, Itachi." She said softly. "Sasuke-chan, won't you come with me?"

Sasuke blinked at her for a long moment. "Nii-san is fine, he said so himself. I want to watch him train today."

Her sigh was shaky, she seemed to be trying to look more exasperated than she was. "Sasuke," was all she said. All she needed to. Itachi laughed quietly and gave his little brother a push.

"Just go, brat," he said teasingly, "You can watch me later. Be a good boy, go help our mother."

Sasuke frowned. He fidgeted under both their eyes before glancing up at his brother and sticking out his tongue. When Itachi laughed and poked his forehead, he stepped to his mothers' side in a huff.

"You're a _jerk_," he informed his older brother politely. Itachi only smiled; a smile that turned flat and strained when his mother took his small hand and led him out of Itachi's room as if he were a baby.

Sasuke's last glimpse of his brother that afternoon was that of a face like the moon; pale and indifferent and beautiful, eyes dark and filled with cold anger, and a killer's clothing covered in blood.

Sasuke was six years old; the illusion that his older brother was God was stronger than ever.


End file.
